3471 Miles: Larry Stylinson Fanfic
by unionxdirection
Summary: Harry Styles comes from a rich stuck up family. He isn't like them, he doesn't want to be like them. His parents want him to be perfect but there's no such thing as perfect. Harry doesn't want to please anyone but himself. He's an 18 year old single dad with a 3 year old child and the only favor his parents have ever done for him was send him to Juilliard in New York City.
1. Beginning

******Beginning**

After 7 hours, the plane lands and comes to a smooth stop. With the plane airconditioning high, and Harry with his jacket wrapped tightly around him, he was more than ready to get off.

Harry was ready to leave his old world behind him and start a new one. He was sick of his stupid drama and he was sick of his parents telling him he's not good enough that he's just a fucking screw up. Well, fuck them because Harry was gonna prove them wrong.

His parents didn't care about Harry. They cared about their image and Harry was ruining it. So, it goes like this.

Once upon a time, there was a man and a woman who lived in London and had all the money in the world. They threw parties every other night and drank champagne that cost more than most people's houses. They had all the fancy cars and all the beach front mansions an average person could only dream of. These people always wanted to look their best which means everyone around them had to look their best. Image is everything to these stupid ass people.

So, the woman got pregnant and had a daughter named Gemma. She was perfect with her dark brown hair, perfect eyebrows, and beautiful eyes.

Her father gave her everything she's ever wanted. What more could a spoiled princess ask for?

Since Gemma was their perfect girl, they thought, why not have a perfect little boy? He was perfect. When he was young, his hair was the color of dark honey and his bright blue eyes were always alert. Harry, they named him.

As he got older, his hair darkened and turned into thick luscious curls. Harry got sick of friends and family members running their fingers through his curls. He wanted to bite every hand that came close to his hair.

Anyway, Harry wasn't as perfect as his parents assumed. Oh, no, he was far from it. Sure, he looked the part but he didn't act the part. It's not that he didn't know how to act the part of his parents' royal rich prince, it's that he refused to act like a stuck up prick.

Harry liked to act impolite around the dinner table (oops). He liked to tell his parents' friends to shove it up their asses (haha). His favorite phrase by far was fuck off. This was when Harry was just 12 years old.

Friends and family complained to Harry's parents, telling them they must have made a mistake at the hospital. This little boy is a rude asshole.

His parents looked around nervously whenever that was mentioned, thinking in their tiny brains that maybe they did pick up the wrong kid from the hospital.

Harry practically lived in his room. His parents were always sending him there for one thing or another. So, he had a lot of time to be on his own and think.

He thought about guys, he thought about girls, he thought about his friends, and he thought of new ways to piss his parents off.

At age 14, Harry was a fucking rebel. He didn't listen to curfew and was barely at his own house to begin with. To top it all off, Harry knew some guys. He knew older guys that could get him things and do things for him that he is eternally grateful for.

Pot? They had it. Cigarettes? They had that. Tattoos? Oh, yeah.

Harry will never forget the look on his parents faces when he came back with a body full of tattoos. He had been gone for a week, his parents didn't bother to look for him, they didn't care.

Sure, they were surprised but, what were they gonna do? Send Harry to his room again? He had already figured out a way to escape.

They said nothing but they were sure as hell planning something. That something came in the form of a girl named Taylor. She was the daughter of 2 of their rich friends from America who came to live in London.

"Why don't you get to know her Harry?" They said.

"She's such a sweet girl." They said.

Harry wasn't stupid, not at all. He knew they wanted him to date Taylor and spend time with her because she was little miss perfect with her blonde hair and cute American southern accent.

She was pretty, Harry wouldn't deny that. So, he gave it a shot when he was 15. He dated little miss perfect and what do you know? She turned into little miss slut.

She got pregnant, she popped out Harry's child and you wanna know what she did after? She freakin overdosed because she was too much of a pussy to care for a baby. She gave that baby to Harry and ran.

Did he come to the funeral? Hell no. Instead, he held his baby girl in his arms while his parents scolded him.

He named his baby girl Annabelle, Belle, like from beauty and the beast, for short. She has curly hair just like her daddy's but eyes like her mother.

At 15 years old, Harry became a father. Big surprise, right?

Harry was the biggest screw up in his family. At least, that's what they told him. Harry knew he wasn't a screw up, he just knew they were all dicks.

Of course he isn't perfect, who is? Except, he has a perfect voice. Singing voice that is. Harry loves to play his guitar, write songs, and sing. And there's one more thing, he's a straight A student. Wow, maybe Harry Edward Styles isn't as bad as you would think.

It doesn't matter, he still hates his parents and his perfect older sister. He wishes they would just go to hell. There are a few things he loves though, his daughter, his guitar, and his music.

That's why, when Harry turned 18, he packed his things, grabbed his guitar, grabbed his 3 year old daughter and gave a nice middle finger salute to his family with the words, "Fuck you and by the way, I'm gay." to follow. He wished he had taken a picture of those 3 shocked faces.

He caught the next flight and flew, 3471 miles and 7 hours to New York. Juilliard Performing Arts school, get ready because Harry Styles has arrived.


	2. New York, New York

******New York, New York**

Harry gently shakes Annabelle awake, knowing he wouldn't be able to carry her and his luggage at the same time. It would have been nice if he had someone to look after her but, it's the just 2 of them. Somehow, they'll make it in New York together. Although, he does have a couple hundred dollars in his wallet to keep them going for a little bit but, he needs a steady income.

It's ironic how his parents have all the money in the world but their son barely has any. Sure, they've given him a little money throughout his years but the most money his parents ever lent him was spent to come to New York, after that, they told him he was on his own. Fine with him, he can make it but he has to find a part time job to buy necessities for Annabelle and himself.

"Daddy, are we here?" She questions, rubbing her sleepy eyes and looking at her father.

"Yeah, Belle. Welcome to New York." He states as he helps her undo her seatbelt when the pilot announces they can.

Harry, ready to get off of this plane, stands up to grab his overhead bags and, as he's pulling one down, accidentally hits the person standing in the aisle next to him.

"Watch it, ass." Harry mutters, loud enough for the person to hear. So, maybe it was his fault but, the old guy shouldn't have been standing so close to him.

"Excuse me?" The guy questions sarcastically, raising his eyebrow.

"You heard me. I'm pretty sure you're not deaf, yet." Harry retorts, it's obvious this guy is like 50, that's pretty damn old.

"Daddy, can we get something to eat?" Annabelle chimes in, oblivious to what's going on between her daddy and this old man. She tugs on Harry's sleeve for emphasis.

"Yes, honey." Harry states and the man's mouth drops open in shock.

"You're her father?"

"Yeah, what's your point?" Harry questions rudely.

"You've just made it." The man laughs and Harry gives him the finger, earning many disapproving glares, as he gathers his bags and takes Annabelle's little hand.

Harry admits he isn't the best role model for his 3 year old daughter but, who cares? He loves her and that's all that matters. He is a teenager after all so, don't expect perfection.

He lets Annabelle walk down the plane aisle a little ahead of him so he can keep an eye on her but he never lets go of her hand. This may be an airplane but there are crazy people on airplanes. Hell, this is New York, there's gonna be crazy people everywhere.

Harry, bags and Annabelle in hand, thanks the pilot as they step off the plane and make their way to the inside of the airport.

Everything's going as planned until he realizes he's not sure how he's going to get to the school.

Great, now he has to find a way to get to Juilliard, he didn't think this through too well.

"Daddy, I'm hungry." Annabelle whines, holding her tummy. Alright, he has to feed Belle first, then he can figure out how the hell he's going to get to school.

"Come on, let's find something good." Harry states as he walks through the JFK airport with his daughter.

Annabelle practically drags her father over to a vendor with sandwiches, yogurt parfaits, and fruit. She points it out immediately and Harry agrees. She doesn't care what she eats, she's just very hungry.

"Pick out what you want." Harry states and pick out, she does. She grabs a sandwich, a yogurt parfait, and a container of apples to bring back to Harry.

"Are you that hungry?" He questions and she nods her head. Harry will be broke soon if she keeps this up.

"Could I at least have the parfait?" Harry questions as he leads her over to the checkout place.

Annabelle thinks for a second before replying, "No."

"No?" Harry questions and she giggles. "I'm the one who's paying for it and you won't even let me have a little bit to eat?" Harry sticks out his bottom lip and pretends to look sad.

"You can have some, daddy." She states as she gives him a hug, not wanting him to be sad.

"Thank you." He replies as he crouches down to give her a kiss. Annabelle means a lot to Harry because she is all Harry has left in this world, her and his music. Speaking of which, he needs to grab his guitar from baggage claim. Shit, how could he forget?

Harry pays for the food quickly and leads Annabelle away so he can get his stuff from baggage claim. Belle doesn't want to leave, she wants to sit down and enjoy her sandwich.

"Daddy, I wanna eat." She protests as she holds her sandwich in her hand and Harry drags her away.

"Can't you eat while we're walking?" He questions.

"No, I wanna eat now!" She protests, stomping her foot. Sometimes, she is such an ungrateful little brat but, Harry can't help but give her what she wants.

They find a couple of chairs at some of the waiting gates and he lets her eat her sandwich. He grabs the parfait, thinking he might as well eat too before he realizes he doesn't have a spoon.

"Fuck." He says, realizing he's hungry too and he's not sure where the next available spoon is. He could eat the apples but he's not a fan of them.

An ugly fat lady eating a doughnut, with a milkshake in hand nearby, turns to glare at Harry.

"You speak like that around children?" She asks, her double chin bothering Harry.

"You look like that around children?" Harry retorts, earning a growl and a swift turn of the fat lady's head. Good, he was tired of seeing her face anyway.

"Daddy, why were you mean to her?" Annabelle questions, not liking what she had just seen.

"Annabelle, when you get old enough, you'll realize that people are mean to you too. That's life, honey." Harry says, letting Belle finish her sandwich before he takes her down to the baggage claim. They wait, and wait, and wait but his guitar is nowhere to be seen.

"You've got to be kidding me." Harry groans, as he walks over to the first employee he sees. "Where the hell is my guitar?"

"Pardon?" She questions.

"My. Guitar. Where. Is. It?" He enunciates, getting angrier by the second.

"I'm sorry, sir. Some of the things got lost on this flight. We could call you if we find it."

"That guitar is my life. I don't have enough fucking money to buy another one!" He exclaims and before she can say another thing, he grabs Annabelle's hand and leads her out of the airport and into the cool fall evening air.

Harry isn't exactly new to the big cities but he can't help but awe at all of the people and the lights of New York City. It is the concrete jungle where dreams are made of after all.

But, first things first, get to the school. That probably requires a taxi. How do you hail a taxi in NYC?

Harry tries his best to hail a cab but, fuck, this is tougher than it looks. Annabelle stands close to her daddy, not wanting to get lost in all of the people.

"Daddy." She says, tugging at his shirt to get his attention. "Daddy." She speaks a little louder when he doesn't answer.

"What, Belle?" He asks, obviously annoyed but not at her, at life in general.

"I'm cold." She shivers and Harry rummages through his bag to get her jacket and help her put it on.

"We're just going to walk." Harry says to Belle and she nods. "Hold my hand, don't let go."

She grabs on to his hand as they walk down the streets of New York. Annabelle gazes at all of the pretty lights and feels like a movie star in a different world.

Where is Juilliard again? Maybe Harry should have googled this before he- Google! That's perfect. He just has to find a place to stop and take out his phone.

"Daddy, look at that lady!" Annabelle giggles and points. So, there's a drunk lady in the middle of Times Square topless. Ok, that's something you don't see everyday.

"Belle, when you grow up, don't ever be like her." Harry says, loud enough to be heard over all of the people.

They continue to walk until he sees an inviting bakery on his left and pushes into it, just wanting to get out of the crowd for a bit.

It's not a bad looking place, in fact, it's really cute. The display case is filled with colorful pastries and cookies, it's very well planned out.

"Look at the cookies!" Annabelle gasps when they walk into the bakery. She pushes her nose against the glass display case and gazes in, her breath fogging it up slightly.

"Would you like one?" A girl questions behind the display case.

"Can I daddy?"

"No, I could make better cookies than that anyday." He grumbles as he takes out his phone to find directions. He could just ask for help but he's beyond that, way beyond.

"Oh, really Mr. Cocky? Would you like to prove it?" The girl questions and Harry looks up at her for the first time. She's pretty, I mean if you liked vagina which Harry doesn't. After being with Taylor, he's decided against it. She has curly brown hair and sparkling brown eyes. She can't be older than 22, give or take a year.

"How would I prove that?" Harry questions.

"Well, we're hiring here. Would you like a job?" She questions.

"Does it look like I need a job? For your information, I can take care of my daughter and myself. I don't need to work at this bakery." Harry says, voice laced with venom. Maybe he does need a job but he's not telling a stranger this.

"Sorry, just an offer. I'm Eleanor by the way." She states and holds her hand over the display glass to shake his. Instead, he just gives her a nod and goes back to his phone.

"Daddy, can I please have a cookie? Please? Please? Please? Please?" Annabelle begs, putting her hands together.

"Oh, let her have a cookie." Eleanor smiles and Harry sighs. "Fine, get your cookie."

"Which one would you like, darling?"

"That one!" Annabelle exclaims, pointing at a yellow sugar cookie in the shape of a flower with a purple and green swirl in the middle.

"Here you go." Eleanor states, grabbing the cookie with a napkin and handing it to the excited 3 year old.

"How much is it?" Harry questions, going up to the register to pay.

"This one's on me." Eleanor smiles.

"Are you flirting with me?" Harry questions, not surprised. Harry has been known to attract women, it's a curse and a gift.

"Possibly, is it working?"

"No. I'm gay."

"Oh, so that's why you bake cookies." Eleanor laughs in response to Harry's earlier comment about cookies.

"Ha-ha. Very funny." Harry says sarcastically.

"I'm joking. So, you must be from England. You're accent is cute." She states, leaning over to Harry seductively.

"Still gay." Harry says.

"Just wanted to give it another shot but seriously, you should work here. My grandfather owns this shop and I have to work around old people all day. I would like to change that."

"Well, how's the money?"

"Good, very good." She states, hopeful and Harry sighs.

"When do I start?"

Eleanor does a little victory dance before replying, "9 tomorrow. You work from 9-3."

"Sorry, I have class tomorrow. Could I come in after 3?"

"After 3 is fine. Where do you go to school?" She questions.

"Juilliard." He replies and Eleanor almost dies of laughter. "Is there a problem?" Harry questions but Eleanor shakes her head.

"It's just, you don't look like a Juilliard student." She says, gesturing to his numerous tattoos and his rude attitude.

"I'm sorry I don't look the way you expected a Juillard student to look. I didn't come here to please you." Harry says, not finding the situation funny at all.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" She begins but Harry holds up his hand for her to shut up as he gets the directions to his school. It's not like he hasn't been to Juilliard for a visit but he's still very unfamiliar around New York.

"I'll be here by 4 and work as late as you want." He states as he takes Annabelle's hand and leads her away without another word to Eleanor.

It takes longer than he expected to get here. By the time they arrive at the school, Annabelle has fallen asleep in Harry's arms so now, he's balancing a 3 year old and his luggage. Can't someone open the damn door for him?

Eventually, someone sees him and opens it, letting him in. Harry's too tired to say thank you and the person doesn't get offended easily so he just brushes it off.

Harry carries Annabelle over to a couch in the lounge and sets her down so he can find out where his dorm is and what room he's going to be in. Here's another thing he didn't think through, since it's his first year here, he has to stay in a dorm, he can't stay in an apartment. That means, he, Annabelle, and a stranger will have to share one room together. It better be big.

Once he gets his bearings, he picks her back up and makes his way to the elevator. Thank god his dorm room is in this building. He presses the number 5 and waits for the elevator to open on the correct floor.

Once it does, he walks down the dorm hallway, looking on the left for his correct room number. When he finds it, he struggles with taking the key out of his pocket when Annabelle is like a deadweight on him.

"Need some help mate?" A voice questions and Harry turns around. It was the guy that opened the door for him earlier.

"Yeah, thanks." He mumbles handing his key over to the stranger. He doesn't take it, instead he has his own key. Guess what that means? He's Harry's new roommate.

"There ya go, lad." He states as he opens the door for Harry and Annabelle.

Thank god this room is big. There's a queen sized bed on one wall and a twin bed on the other. A couple of desks and a couple of lounge chairs are already in the room along with a tv, a mini fridge, a couch, and a small book shelf.

The other guy has already moved his stuff in. He has many Irish knickknacks and references. Golly gee, he must be Irish, Harry thinks sarcastically as if the accent wasn't a dead giveaway. In New York, people from all around the world come here.

"I'm Niall." He says from behind as Harry lays Annabelle down on the queen sized bed.

"Harry." He sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"Tough night?" The dirty blonde named Niall questions but Harry only glares so Niall leaves it alone.

"Make yourself at home." Niall states, going over to sit on his bed.

Harry does just that. He drops all of his bags in a pile in front of his bed and gets on it, laying next to Annabelle. He closes his eyes and rubs both hands on his face. All he wants is a nice long hot shower.

When he opens his eyes, he sees Niall picking up a guitar by his twin bed.

"You play?" Harry questions, suddenly interested in this Niall kid.

"Yeah. Been playing since I was 10. You?"

"Since I was 8." He replies, gazing at the guitar lovingly.

"Where's yours?" Niall questions, sensing Harry's longingness.

"Some assholes lost it on my flight over here." Harry says bitterly.

"Oh, well, I have another one. Would ya like to use it until yours gets back?" Niall questions, already handing Harry the guitar he was currently holding and going over to his closet to grab his second one.

"Thanks." Harry says, genuinely grateful for Niall right now.

"So?" Niall says, adding a little question mark at the end as he returns to his bed.

"So, what?" Harry says as he examines the guitar. It's just like his old one except a different color.

"What's up with, uh, your-" Niall gestures towards a sleeping Annabelle, not wanting to intrude but being curious all the same.

"I fucked her mum, she popped Annabelle out, the rest is history." Harry replies nonchalantly, strumming an A chord.

"Oh." Niall says, surprised by his forwardness.

"I assume you're from Ireland." Harry says after a while of silence.

"What gave that away?" Niall questions, completely serious.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Yes." Niall says and cracks a smile which Harry imitates. "I assume you're from England."

"London." Harry says and Niall nods.

"I have a couple friends here from London and one of our professors."

"Who's the professor?"

"Louis Tomlinson. I hope you don't get his class." Niall states.

"Why, what's wrong with him?"

"He is so hard to please, mate. I failed his class because he didn't like the way I strummed my guitar. What the fuck?" Niall says, remembering the horror that is Mr. Tomlinson's class.

"He can't be too bad." Harry shrugs.

"You're going to regret you said that."

"Why?"

"I just remembered that all newcomers have him for a class. He also teaches basic music so, it's mandatory." Niall says and Harry gets off his bed to rummage through his stuff. He retrieves his schedule and glances at it. Sure enough, Mr. Tomlinson teaches his first class of the day. Ah, fuck.


	3. College Life, Day 1

******College Life, Day 1**

Harry stretches and yawns in bed. He knows he has to get up for class but he's just so damn comfy. Annabelle is curled up to him and he has his arms wrapped around her when he remembers where he is.

He's at Juilliard in New York City and he has classes today. Classes? Oh, shit.

Harry opens his eyes quickly, fumbling for his phone and cursing when he almost drops it. He looks at the time, 9:40am, his first class is in 20 minutes and he has to get ready, get Annabelle ready, and get her to the daycare center.

Fuck.

He jumps out of bed, seeing a sleeping Niall across the room. He and Harry had talked a lot last night and learned a lot about each other. Basically everything from Harry's birth to Harry arriving in New York was included, same with Niall. Niall isn't too bad of a guy and he promised to introduce Harry to his friend Liam later on.

Harry quickly goes into their attached bathroom and takes the quickest shower of all quick showers, in under 3 minutes, record. He quickly brushes his teeth and enters the room, frantically looking for clothes.

He doesn't have a towel around him or anything, he didn't think he'd need one.

"Woah, that's an interesting sight to wake up to, mate." Niall chuckles but Harry refuses to turn around, he's on a mission. So what if Niall can see his naked ass, he's proud of it.

"Why are you in such a hurry?" Niall questions as he stretches and puts his hands behind his head, relaxing on his pillow.

"I have class at 10 with Louis Tomlinson. Shit, where is my shirt?" Harry exclaims knowing he should have unpacked yesterday.

Niall glances at the clock, "You'd better hurry."

"Yeah, no shit." Harry says sarcastically as he finds his shirt and puts his clothes on in record time as well.

As he sits on the edge of his bed to put his shoes and socks on, he wakes up Annabelle who, lucky for him (sarcasm), is not a morning person.

"No, daddy. I'm sleepy." She mumbles and Harry gives her butt a firm but not too hard smack.

"Get up, Annabelle. I'm not in the mood for this." Harry says as he rummages through his things to get Annabelle's clothes as well. "Put these on, hon." He says, as he gives the clothes to her. "Quickly."

"But, daddy. I can't." She mumbles, staring at the clothes in her hand.

"Why not?" He questions and she gestures at Niall with her head.

Annabelle is a little shy and doesn't like to change when someone other than Harry is in the room.

"Belle, he's not looking, I promise. If he is, I'll cut his dick off." Harry says, growling that last part at Niall who quickly pulls his cover over his head. Harry doesn't really censor himself around his daughter. He doesn't want her to grow up thinking she can't do or say certain things because it's unacceptable in society. Fuck society.

"But he's still here." She whines and Harry sighs as he goes over and manually takes off Annabelle's clothes and puts the new ones on because she won't do it herself.

"Go potty, Belle, and brush your teeth." Harry states and Annabelle goes off to do just that as Harry glances at the clock, 9:58am, he's so gonna be late.

When Annabelle gets back from the bathroom, Harry grabs a muffin that's laying next to Niall's stuff and gives it to Annabelle.

"I was gonna eat that." Niall protests.

"Cry me a river." Harry says sarcastically as he opens the little refrigerator in their room and grabs a bottle of orange juice.

Harry grabs his messenger bag and Annabelle's hand as he leaves the dorm room on his way to the daycare center.

What do you know? The daycare center is a 10 minute walk from here. Great, it's already 10:10am and then he has to walk to his class which is in the theater which is a 18 minute walk from the daycare center, lovely. That means he'll have about 52 minutes out of 90 of Mr. Tomlinson's class when he gets there.

Harry walks as quickly as possible but Annabelle keeps slowing him down with, "Look at that building, daddy!" or "That flower is pretty, daddy!" or "Look at the ladybug, daddy!"

So, sadly, it takes about 15 minutes to get to the daycare center where Harry gives Annabelle a quick sip of orange juice, a kiss on the head, and lends her to the teacher at the daycare place.

Harry is about 45 minutes late when he finds the theater. He had gotten lost and had to retrace his steps, ugh. Next time, he'll spend a little more time finding his classes ahead so something like this doesn't happen again.

When he gets to the theater he opens the door and passes through the lobby to the main area. He opens the door slowly, hoping no one will notice him. He fucked that up.

Harry's able to make it through the doors and to take a seat next to a brunette that looks at lot like this Liam character Niall's been going on about. Mr. Tomlinson is sitting on the stage, teaching about the history of music and blah blah blah.

Harry takes out a notebook and pencil to take notes like everyone else when he hears Mr. Tomlinson pause in his speaking. Harry doesn't think anything of it and kind of goes into lala land until he hears Mr. Tomlinson say his name directly.

"Harry Styles is it?"

"What?" Harry snaps out of his trance and everyone looks at him. He didn't notice Mr. Tomlinson hop off the stage until he's standing in front of the row of seats Harry is sitting in.

"Would you like to explain why you're late?" He questions and Harry looks at him, really looks at him for the first time. Goddamn he's beautiful. He's looks about 30 with dark brown hair that's in a sort of quiff. His eyebrows are perfectly rounded and so expressive when he talks. His eyes are a beautiful shade of green and his lips are so perfect and pink. A little stubble covers his top lip and chin, making him look so mature. What Harry wouldn't give to rub his face against that stubble. He's never been with a guy before to be honest. He just knows he doesn't like vagina so he has to like penis, right?

So, Harry will admit he's kind of drooling over Mr. Tomlinson right now. He's in a tight black long sleeve shirt and tight jeans for god's sake. As he quickly looks at the other students, he realizes all of the girls are drooling over Mr. Tomlinson.

"Can you talk?" Mr. Tomlinson questions as he paces in front of the class, aiming his question at Harry. When Mr. Tomlinson turns around, wow. His ass is so perfect that Harry just wants to grab it and never let go.

"Sorry, what was the question?" Harry says, coming back to reality.

"I've asked a few questions. Which one do you mean?"

"Uh, the one right before the one you just asked me now."

"I asked if you could talk." Mr. Tomlinson says patiently, taking a seat back on the stage so his feet are dangling off the edge.

"No, before that."

"I asked why you were late." He questions and Harry hears the obvious British accent in his voice.

"Oh, I was late because I overslept. Then, I had to take my daughter to daycare but she seemed to think flowers were more important than me getting to class so, that's why I'm late." Harry shrugs and a few people in the class roll their eyes at Harry.

"Well, since it's the first day, I'll let you off easy. I don't accept tardiness in my class, Harry and the next time you're late, I'm kicking you out." Mr. Tomlinson says threateningly.

"Mr. Tomlinson, with all do respect, why don't you pull that stick out of your ass?" Harry asks as sweetly as he can. Harry has a problem with talking back, oops.

"Oh, Harry. Maybe when you take your head out of your ass, I can take the stick out of mine." Mr. Tomlinson says, smiling sweetly at Harry as well.

Harry knows this could go back and forth so he says nothing. Satisfied, Mr. Tomlinson continues his teaching, Harry only half listening. So, he's known this guy for about 20 minutes and he's ready to kick him in the balls as hard as possible.

As Louis. Tomlinson continues to go on and on, he gets lost in thought again until he speaks to him, "Harry, why don't you sing us a song?"

"Pardon?"

"You're a voice major, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah but what has that got to do with this class?" Harry questions.

"This class is about music history and music in general. I thought singing is very straight forward in music so I had this brilliant idea that you could sing us a song. You know, for demonstration purposes." Mr. Tomlinson smirks and Harry know he's getting back at him for being late and talking back.

It's not that Harry minds singing in front of people. He's done it before, it's just that he isn't ready right now. He needs time to warm up and wake up his voice. Besides, he doesn't have a song ready.

"Sorry, I'm not prepared."

"We don't mind, do we class?" Mr. Tomlinson states and Harry rolls his eyes.

"Fine. If it'll get you to shut that pretty little mouth of yours, I'll sing." Harry states and Mr. Tomlinson raises his eyebrow in surprise and a little admiration. No student has ever talked to him like that and he likes someone who can speak their mind.

Harry sings a few bars of his favorite song, Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol, acapella. When he's done, he feels satisfied and like he did amazing. The other people in the class think so as well and clap when's he's immediately finished.

"Not too bad. Needs some improvement." Mr. Tomlinson states, unimpressed.

"Excuse me? I fucking nailed that." Harry snarls, just about ready to rip that teacher's head off.

"Maybe in your mind but in New York, anyone can nail a song. That's not going to book gigs or make you famous, personality and talent does." Mr. Tomlinson says.

"Are you saying I have no personality?"

"Why jump to conclusions? Maybe I was implying you have no talent." He smirks and that is it. Harry jumps out of his chair, ready to punch that smirk off the teacher's face but the brunette holds him back, shaking his head.

Mr. Tomlinson doesn't lose his smirk as Harry sits back down in his seat in defeat, glaring at him the whole class period.

When the class is dismissed, Harry tries to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible but a certain teacher calls him back.

"Harry, I would like to ask you something and I want you to answer me honestly." Mr. Tomlinson states as he comes to stand right in front of Harry. Harry realizes he has a little height advantage over the teacher and he smirks at that.

"Ask away." Harry says.

"Do you think this is a joke?"

"Do I think what's a joke?"

"Harry, do you know how hard it is to get into this school? Everyone that is here is here because they have real talent. I can tell you have it too but if you're not going to take this seriously, catch the next flight home." Mr. Tomlinson states, looking Harry in the eyes and never breaking that.

"Home? I don't have a home and you know what? You don't know me so don't pretend like you do. I'm here because music is my passion and it's one of the only things I have left in this world." Harry says, not breaking eye contact either.

"Then prove you want to be here." He challenges.

"I don't have to prove anything to you." Harry states and without another word, he turns away and exits the theater, leaving behind his signature middle finger salute.

Harry makes his way to his dorm room, his blood boiling at the prissy teacher who thinks he knows anything and everything.

When he unlocks his door, he is greeted by the sight of Niall and some brunette guy making out on Niall's bed.

"Don't mind me." Harry mutters as he goes over to their mini fridge and rummages through it.

"Dude, do you have any beer?" Harry questions and Niall plus the other guy turn around. Harry immediately sees that it's the brunette from his music class, the one that held him back.

"You're not in England anymore, you have to be 21 to buy beer. It's not even allowed in the dorm anyway." Niall states.

"Seriously?" Harry questions as he shuts the fridge door hard, already pissed off at New York City.

Since drinking is out of the question, he goes over to his stuff to unpack completely, knowing he has plenty of time to spare before his next class.

As he's taking out his clothes, he can sense the awkwardness between the brunette and Niall now that Harry's in the room.

"Listen, I don't care if you guys fuck just don't do it when Annabelle's around." He states as he puts some of his clothes in the closet.

"Uh, thanks? Anyway, this is Liam." Niall says as Harry turns to look at them.

"So, this is the guy you've told me about. Seems more like a fuckbuddy than a friend." Harry says and Liam's mouth drops open.

"Geez mate, would you mind watching your mouth there?" Liam questions in a British accent.

"Who are you, my dad?" Harry snorts rudely as he finishes taking out his and Annabelle's clothes. He takes out a sundress and folds it up, Liam eyeing it curiously.

"Is that for a little girl?"

"No, Liam. It's for me. The colors just bring out my eyes." Harry says sarcastically as he puts the dress close to his eyes.

"What I mean it, why are there little kids in the dorm?"

"That little kid is my daughter. Anymore questions, Liam?" Harry questions rudely.

"Aren't there dorms for parents with kids?" Niall questions, the idea just popping up in his head.

"I didn't think this through, ok?" Harry exclaims, frustrated. He massages the space between his eyes before saying, "Do you have any cigarettes?"

"I don't but down the hall on the right, Zayn might." Niall states and Harry exits the room, following Niall's direction and wanting a cigarette badly. He hasn't gotten a new pack yet, he meant to when he had arrived in this city.

Harry gets to a room with the name Zayn on the front and, call him crazy but Harry thinks this is Zayn's room.

He knocks loudly until a raven haired guy opens the door. In Harry's eyes, Zayn doesn't look too different from him. They are both rocking the numerous tattoos on their bodies.

"Do you have any cigarettes?" Harry questions.

"Who are you?" Zayn says and Harry notices how he has a slight english accent but he's been in America so long that it's fading.

"It's a yes or no question and my name is Harry." He states, holding out his hand for the cigarettes.

"I do, Harry." Zayn states, reaching in his back pocket for an unopened pack. Harry starts to grab it but Zayn yanks it back.

"These aren't free, man, 10 dollars." Zayn states and holds out his hand for the money.

"You little motherfucker." Harry says but gives him 10 dollars anyway while Zayn hands over the pack.

Harry takes one out and grabs the blue lighter from his pocket that he always has with him.

"You can't do that inside." Zayn states.

"Sue me." Harry replies as he lights up and blows smoke straight into Zayn's face before making his way back to his room.

Harry goes over to the only window in the dorm room and opens it, standing in front and exhaling the smoke outside.

Niall and Liam continue their little makeout session while Harry smokes his cigarette down to a nub. When's he done, he flicks the nub out the window and watches it land on the grass below as he lights up a second one.

Niall pulls back from Liam and says, "Mate, ya know that's really bad for your voice, don't ya?"

"Yeah, well, what can you do?" Harry shrugs nonchalantly and Niall lets it be.

Once Harry finishes his 2nd cigarette, he glances at his phone to confirm he still has time before his next class. He's not going to be late to this one too.

So, Harry decides to cross over the room and take a few pictures out of his bag. His side of the room is completely bare compared to Niall's who has pictures of his friends, family, and many posters up.

As he's putting up his pictures, he hears Niall and Liam exchange goodbyes before Liam exits their room.

"So, you don't have any pictures of your parents?" Niall questions as he watches Harry put up pictures of him and Annabelle, and a few friends, that's it.

"I don't have parents." Harry says bitterly and Niall says nothing as he remembers everything Harry told him about his parents.

"Well, do you wanna grab some lunch and see the city a bit?" Niall questions after a few moments of silence, trying to be friendly.

"I guess." Harry says nonchalantly and follows Niall to the elevator and out of the school, into the heart of New York.

"So, what do you think of New York?" Niall questions as he and Harry walk down the sidewalk to one of Niall's favorite places to eat, a restauarnt called Junior's.

"You're forgetting that I am from the city so it's not much different." Harry states as he and Niall pass a guy selling condoms with the m&m logo on the package.

"In London, it's not as easy to access condoms as it is here. If it was, I wouldn't have Annabelle." Harry jokes and Niall chuckles.

"Yeah, there are some pretty eccentric people and things here. You'll get used to them." Niall states as he opens the door of the restauarnt when they get there.

"Mate, I don't know if we can eat here today. Look at that line." Niall says and, sure enough, there's a rather long line inside with people going every which way.

"Isn't everything always busy in NY?" Harry questions.

"You're right."

"Shouldn't you know this already?"

"I've lived here a year and I'm still learning. Come on." Niall says and turns to exit the restaurant, dodging a few people along the way, and gestures for Harry to follow him.

Once outside again, Niall leads Harry to a small grocery store instead.

"We need food for our room anyway." Niall states as he grabs a grocery cart close to the entrance.

The two boys start their shopping and between the both of them, they manage to buy all the food a college guy would eat. They pick up instant this and instant that, lots of soda, water, and some juice boxes for Annabelle.

As they go down the aisle, Harry throws in some milk, a package of pull ups, a few sippy cups, and some snacks for his 3 year old daughter.

When they're satisfied with their purchases, they stand in line at the checkout counter. Niall immediately offers to pay for everything but Harry's having none of that. He's not completely broke yet.

"I'm gonna at least pay for Annabelle's things. She's my responsibility." Harry states and Niall isn't one to argue so he agrees. It turns out that both of them end up paying half.

Once the grocery employee bags their things, they each take a few plastic bags with the store's logo on them. The blonde haired teenager and the curly brunette teenager, carry their bags and make their way back to Juilliard.

Harry and Niall get back to their room and set the grocery bags down, putting the groceries in the right places.

They are able to grab a quick bite of food, (thank god for instant meals), before they both have to make their way to their next classes.

"Would ya like to walk to class together?" Niall questions as he grabs his stuff and his guitar case.

"Niall, you don't have to act so nice to me." Harry states as he puts his bag on his shoulder.

"I know I don't have to but that's what friends do. We're friends, aren't we?"

"Well, I don't have any Irish friends so, yes. You're my blonde haired Irish buddy." Harry laughs and Niall laughs too.

As the 2 friends walk through the campus together, they hear a voice shouting behind them.

"Niall, Harry, wait up!"

They both turn around to see Liam running towards them, almost tripping over his bag.

Niall and Harry hold back laughter as he comes up to them and wraps his arms around Niall's waist, kissing him sweetly.

"So, I'm confused. Is he your fuck buddy, friend, or boyfriend?" Harry questions as the 3 of them walk to their classes together.

"Boyfriend, 5 months and counting." Niall states.

"Why didn't you tell me he was your boyfriend to began with?" Harry questions, remembering how Niall only referred to him as a friend.

"I didn't know how you would handle gays." Niall says.

"Niall, I saw you guys swapping spit and I'm gay too." Harry laughs, thinking how ridiculous it is that Niall thought he would judge him differently. It's true that when Harry was telling Niall his life story, he left out the gay part too.

"Oh, well, then I guess you're completely cool with it." Niall smiles and Harry does too.

The 3 continue their walk to class before they break off, Niall going one way, Liam and Harry going the other way. Liam and Harry find out they are both majoring in vocals while Niall majors in guitar and that they have another class together.

"Please don't try and punch the teacher again." Liam says, half joking and half serious as he opens the door to the building that houses their next class.

"No promises."

Harry has to admit, he really liked this teacher. She didn't have a stick up her ass and she didn't speak like she was above her students, she spoke like she was talking to them as human beings.

During that class, Harry and Liam got to know each other more and Harry decided he liked Liam. Wow, he's been here for a day and he's made 2 friends. That's a record that needs to go in the record book.

Just one more class for Harry of the day and then he can get Annabelle and just relax. Unfortunately, Liam isn't in this class so Harry's on his own. He's been on his own for a while so it doesn't phase him as he answers all of the questions correctly and proudly sings in front of the class. He doesn't mind this teacher either.

The morning didn't start out too great but the afternoon is pretty damn awesome. Alright, his classes are done for the day and the next thing on his list is to pick up Annabelle.

He realizes he hadn't seen her since the morning and he really misses his little girl. She's always been the rainbow to his dark clouds.

It only takes him a few minutes to get from his last class to the daycare center. He opens the door and sees Belle immediately. She's with a small group of kids and she's playing a game with them. To Harry, it looks like some sort of make believe game and he's not sure what she's pretending to be but he enjoys the way her face lights up when she sees her father.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" She exclaims as she goes over to him and hops up and down excitedly.

"Did they let you drink coffee here?" Harry jokes as he picks her up and gives her a kiss. "How was your day, love?"

"Really fun! I painted a picture for you!" She exclaims as she wriggles out of Harry arms to grab a picture that was drying on a table. She runs back to Harry and shows it to him proudly.

"It's beautiful." He says honestly. "Thank you." He isn't sure what it's supposed to be, it's just a bunch of random colorful lines but it's perfect.

"How was your day, daddy?" She questions as he goes to sign her out, holding her in his arms again as they leave the building and emerge outside.

"It could've been better." He says

"Does this make it better?" Annabelle questions as she gives Harry a wet, sloppy kiss on his cheek.

"Yes, much better." He replies as he kisses her little nose that reminds him so much of Taylor (slut).

As Harry carries Belle up to the dorm room, she doesn't take a breath as she tells Harry every little detail of her day. She includes what she ate for lunch, who her new friends are, and all the stories that the teachers read.

She's still talking as Harry unlocks their room, walking in and realizing Niall isn't there. Harry just sets Annabelle down, puts her picture up, and lets her watch tv while he tries to take a little nap.

Belle gets lost in a stupid animated Disney movie and begs Harry to watch it with her. There goes that nap.

As Harry gets lost in the movie as well, he can't help thinking he forgot something important. Instead of trying to figure it out, he just shrugs and enjoys the movie until it's over.

Niall walks in the room minutes after the movie ends. It's not the Irishman that makes Harry do a double take, it's what he's eating. Niall is eating a bakery cookie. So the bakery, Harry, Eleanor, and the job equals oh shit.

It's 5:02 and Harry said he would be in by 4. Is it possible to get fired before actually working? Harry just sighs as he realizes he's late for another important thing today, great.


	4. Friends with Benefits

___Harry Styles comes from a rich stuck up family. He isn't like them, he doesn't want to be like them. His parents want him to be perfect but there's no such thing as perfect. Harry doesn't want to please anyone but himself. He's an 18 year old single dad with a 3 year old child and the only favor his parents have ever done for him was send him to Julliard in New York City. Away from London, Harry can finally be himself and express his passion for music. Along the way, his music professor, Mr. Tomlinson, becomes more than a teacher and more than a friend, he becomes a lover._

___Warning: language_

___word count: 3537_

******Friends with Benefits**

Harry realizes that he's not proving he can be 100% trustworthy. First he was late for Louis Tomlinson's class and now his job, the job that is going to pay for Annabelle. Harry's not doing this intentionally, he's not trying to piss anyone off right now. He's just trying to get by, seriously.

After remembering he has a job, Harry jumps off of the bed quickly, taking Annabelle by the hand.

"Where are you-?" Niall begins but his questions dies off of his tongue as Harry and Belle put on their shoes and quickly race out of the room.

"But, daddy, I have to go potty." Belle complains as her teenage father drags her on the elevator, the doors closing them in as the elevator makes it's journey down.

"We're just going to the bakery, baby. You can use the bathroom there." Harry replies, not meaning to brush Annabelle off but, if he doesn't get his ass to his job, there will be no job.

As they get off the elevator, Harry thinks about Eleanor, who he just met yesterday. She seems like the kind of girl who would kill you and then get down on her knees in front of you. That actually doesn't sound like a bad idea. Maybe Harry will sleep with Eleanor, it's been a while since he has gotten laid. It's true, he still doesn't like vagina but, he's a guy with needs. He needs his needs fulfilled no matter who fulfills them.

Harry realizes how slow they're going as they exit the campus. Annabelle is slowed down by her need to use the bathroom and Harry refuses to be slowed down. So, he picks up Annabelle and walks/jogs with her in his arms.

This arrangement works for a few minutes until they get to Times Square. There's quite a few people here and Harry can't physically run unless he shoves everyone out of the way. That would be rude but what's stopping him now, he's always been rude.

With his grip on Annabelle strong, he pushes his way through the crowd, earning curses and middle fingers everywhere. Screw them, this isn't his problem, it's theirs for walking so slowly.

The whole time he's shoving and speed walking, he's listening to Belle complain in his ear how much she has to potty.

"I get it, babe. You need to use the bathroom. We'll be there soon." Harry states as he continues to make his way down the sidewalks of the city until he comes to a familiar bakery sign. He sighs in relief as he pushes it open, seeing how full it was with customers.

"I made it." He mumbles but Annabelle is in a different mood. She starts to cry into Harry's shoulder and mumbles, "I didn't make it."

At first, Harry is trying to make sense of what she's saying before getting it. She just pissed her pants is what she's implying. She just had an accident and she's a little mad at her father right now. Who could blame her?

"It's ok, Belle. Let's get you cleaned up." Harry states and sighs in relief when he remembers that Belle is wearing a pull up. If she was wearing her big girl underwear, this would be very difficult to clean.

Her father just takes her to a bathroom and cleans her up. There, Harry realizes they don't have any other pull ups so he just has to pray that she won't make a mess again.

After being cleaned, Annabelle and Harry make their way back to the front of the bakery. When they approach it, Harry can hear Eleanor but he can't see her, a few customers are in the way.

For a moment, Harry sends a silent thank you to the gods, happy he can't see the disapproving glare that's sure to come his way.

Harry and Annabelle wait patiently until Eleanor has tended to all of the customers at the moment. When the people clear away, Harry sees that death glare he was hoping to avoid. Well, he's managed to piss off his boss on the first day.

"4pm, Harry. You said you would be here at 4." She growls, angrily pushing a strand of brown hair behind her ear.

"I'm really sorry, Eleanor. I got tied up and forgot." Harry shrugs sheepishly, awaiting the firing that is sure to come. So what? He's sure he could find another job, right?

"Do you know how bad of an excuse that is?" Eleanor exclaims, going a little farther behind the counter to grab something.

"Yeah, it sounded pretty lame to me." Harry mutters, knowing his tardiness is inexcusable. So, Harry waits for Eleanor to come back, wondering where this was going to go.

Eleanor turns back around with an apron in her hand. She tosses it over the counter and Harry catches it easily.

"Listen, Harry, I'm giving you a 2nd chance. Prove to me that you can work here and I won't fire you." She says icily. Ironically, the ice touches her brown eyes and turns her stare deathly.

Harry does his best to avoid that evil glare as he puts on the apron that she gave him.

Eleanor waits until he's done before saying, "You're working in the kitchen. I don't trust you to work with the customers." She says as she motions for Harry to follow her behind the counter.

"What can I do?" Annabelle questions, wanting a job like her daddy, hating to be left out of anything.

"You can work with me, sweetie." Eleanor says and Annabelle runs up to hold Eleanor's hand. At least Belle likes this girl, Harry can tolerate her.

Eleanor turns her attention back to Harry, ready to give him orders but a customer enters, ringing the bell on their door. "Go to the kitchen, they'll tell you what to do." She says as she immediately tends to the customer, Annabelle at her side.

Harry nods, not wanting to disobey Eleanor, and pushes a door open that must be the kitchen.

When Harry enters, seeing all of the people in the back, he realizes Eleanor is right. Everyone that works here is at least twice his age, ranging from 36-72. He can definitely understand why she wanted to hire him and why she probably won't fire him unless he really screws up which, he won't.

"You're the new employee?" A pretty woman in her late thirties with brown hair and blonde highlights asks.

"No, I just found this apron and decided to come back to the kitchen uninvited." Harry states sarcastically.

"Wow, we have a smart ass. Welcome to the bakery, I'm Caroline." She states, sarcastic as well.

"Harry, so, what do you want me to do?" Harry questions, tired of making small talk with this woman.

"What can you do?" She questions as another baker sets a tray of fresh cupcakes in front of Caroline.

"Anything." Harry replies.

"Frost these cupcakes." Caroline states, gesturing to the many cupcakes in front of her.

Harry, knowing exactly what he's doing, goes to wash his hands and, after a little searching, finds a bowl, frosting, piping bag, and finds a utensil that smooths icing.

Without instructions from anyone, Harry takes bright blue, yellow, pink, and orange icing and puts it in the bowl. He lightly whips the frosting colors together, making a pretty rainbow icing.

The others just watch this young 18 year old boy move around the bakery like he's done this for years.

When Harry's satisfied with the overall color of the icing, he fills a piping bag up with it. He scoops the icing into the bag and seals it up, putting a specific tip on the end.

He handles the piping bag with ease as he frosts each and every cupcake. The icing swirls beautifully on the mini desserts and they look absolutely appetizing.

"Not bad." Caroline comments as she watches Harry make a pretty swirl on the last cupcake.

"What else you got?" Harry questions, setting the bag aside and waiting for further instructions from his co workers.

"Can you make sugar flowers?" A guy with blondish brown hair questions as he works on what looks like a wedding cake.

"Can I?" Harry questions, moving over next to the guy and taking a small ball of fondant in his hand. Harry rolls the fondant into a flat shape. When he's done with that, he cuts the shape of the flower and uses a ball tool to make the flowers appear more realistic.

"Impressive." The guy mutters, surprised that a boy so young is capable of this.

"Very." Caroline comments from behind. "How old did you say you were Harry?"

"18." He replies, adding a little color to the flowers.

"Where did you learn to bake like that?" The guy questions.

"I used to work in a bakery at home. I spent a lot of time there because I had to take care of my daughter. I learned a lot from my old boss." Harry replies, handing the man the sugar flowers to put on the wedding cake.

"Where are you from?" The man questions.

"Geez Olly, lay off his personal life." Caroline jokes to the man named Olly.

"Shut up." Olly says jokingly to Caroline.

Harry watches the exchange and smiles a little before saying, "I'm from London."

The evening turns out to be a long and very hard one. Harry works from 5-12, closing time. Unfortunately, it wasn't Harry's decision to stay until closing time. Eleanor let everyone leave but she immediately stopped Harry and told him to close up with her.

Not wanting to upset the boss, he did just that. He stayed behind while Eleanor changed the open sign to closed. While he stayed, he carried Annabelle in his arms the whole time. Normally, she goes to bed around 9 but she made it to 10 tonight, passing out at one of the bakery tables.

Eleanor didn't want to wake her so she let her sleep, keeping a close eye on her of course. So, Harry has a little girl quietly snoring in his ear and his own heavy eyelids threatening to close, just like the sign says.

"I know why you made me stay." Harry speaks up after all the lights have been turned out and everything set for the night.

"Why was that?" Eleanor questions nonchalantly as she locks the door.

"You wanted to get me to walk you home." Harry says and Eleanor starts walking away without another word, knowing Harry would follow her.

"How did you know?" She questions sarcastically, honestly not wanting Harry to walk her home but not complaining when it looks like he's about to.

"I just know." He replies as he and Eleanor walk the streets of New York City in silence. It's Harry that breaks the silence when he says, "You said your grandfather owns this place, does he ever work here?"

"No. He passed away last year. I'm technically the owner of the shop but it feels wrong to say that so I still say it's his." Eleanor replies, zipping up the jacket she was wearing, feeling the chilly late night air.

"I'm sorry about your loss but why didn't your parents take over the shop?" Harry questions, shifting Annabelle to his left hip.

"They don't think running a bakery is how anyone should spend their life. They think that I should get a 'real' job." She says, putting air quotes on the word real.

"I think it's a great job. The bakery seems to get really good business." Harry states.

"It does. I'm really lucky that I'm able to take care of myself with the bakery money I make." She replies, smiling at the idea of the bakery her grandfather loved.

The 2 of them fall into silence again before Harry breaks it once more.

"How old are you?"

"24." She replies.

"Wow, I was 2 years off." He says, remembering how he assumed she was 22.

"I get that a lot. Throughout my entire life people have always thought I looked younger than I really was." She shrugs.

For the 3rd time that night, Harry and Eleanor fall silent, both lost in their own thoughts. Harry realizes that Eleanor's apartment is a lot further than he would have imagined. His arm starts to fall asleep and he has to constantly shift Annabelle. It would have been nice if she had woken up and walked herself but Harry wasn't going to wake his daughter.

He just put up with the sore arms until they arrived at their destination, Eleanor's New York apartment.

The apartment on the outside is very nice. It's all brick like most things in Ny but it is quite big and seems very well put together.

After glancing at the outside, he follows Eleanor inside and over to the elevators.

"I should really head back." Harry states but realizes how far of a walk it would be, especially with Annabelle.

"Harry, I'm not making you walk back to Juilliard by yourself at night. You're staying the night here." Eleanor states in a way that makes Harry want to stay. She has that effect. When she orders someone to do something, it feels like you should do it.

"I barely know you." Harry says, following Eleanor on the elevator anyway. For some reason, he trusts this girl.

"Well, my name is Eleanor Calder. I was born in Manhattan, I've lived in New York my entire life. I have one older brother who's in the army. I own a bakery and I'm 24 years old. Your turn." She says, pressing the button for her floor.

"I'm Harry Styles. I was born in London. I hate my family and ironically they're rich but I don't have shit. I've played the guitar for 10 years. I have a 3 year old daughter. I'm gay, 18, and I love tattoos." Harry states as the elevator starts to go up.

"I definitely could've guessed the last part on my own." Eleanor states, gazing at Harry's tattoos. He has 2 half sleeves on each arm, a full collar bone of them, and a couple behind each ear. Since he's 18, he's definitely getting more (legally) soon. Being a dad, he's gained some sense of responsibility and he's not going to spend hundreds of dollars on tattoos when he should spend that money on Annabelle.

"I'm addicted to tattoos, what can I say?" He jokes, shrugging.

"At least you don't have any facial piercings." She states, hating when guys have their faces pierced.

"So I guess that eyebrow ring I was thinking about is out of the picture if I wanted to please you. Too bad I don't." Harry says, definitely not caring what Eleanor thinks about the way he looks.

"Were you really going to get your eyebrow pierced?" She questions as the elevator doors open.

"Maybe, why?" He says as she steps off and he follows her.

"Because, I actually really like eyebrow piercings." She says seductively, turning around to look at Harry.

"Are you trying to get me to sleep with you?" Harry rolls his eyes at Eleanor.

"Listen, Harry, I know you're my gay employee and all but you're hot and I haven't gotten laid in a while." Eleanor states bluntly, taking out her keys and unlocking her apartment door.

"All you had to do was ask. I'm getting really tired of my hand." Harry says honestly, not having had sex in a while too.

Eleanor nods at his words as she opens to door, letting Harry and Annabelle go in first. Harry looks around for a bit deciding that he really likes Eleanor's apartment. It's furnished nicely, it has 3 bedrooms, it's spacious, and he's so jealous of her stainless steel kitchen.

Maybe one day he can afford an apartment like this for him, Annabelle, and hopefully his future boyfriend.

"Where can Annabelle sleep?" He questions, turning around to face Eleanor who is taking off her jacket and laying it on her couch.

"I have a little cousin that comes here so often I've let her design her own room. She's around Annabelle's age. She can sleep in her room which is over there." Eleanor points to a room that's a little down the hall and on the right.

"Thanks." Harry says and takes Annabelle to that room. He's ecstatic when he puts her down on the bed, giving his arms a rest. Before he leaves, he tucks her under the covers, still in her clothes, and glances at the room itself.

It's a little girl's dream room. The bed that Annabelle is sleeping in is pink, purple, and white with a bunch of little flowers embedded in the quilt. The walls are light pink and the room has many toys, dolls, and dress up clothes. The room has one window and has a little white window seat underneath that is filled with stuffed animals.

If Annabelle could design her own room, it would look just like this. To be honest, she's never had her own room. When Harry lived with his parents, they didn't like Annabelle at all. They think little kids should be made from love and not just sex.

Since Harry didn't love Taylor, not one bit, they thought she should've gotten an abortion. They thought that having a father like Harry would screw her up so much she wouldn't make it in this world.

They told him that they wouldn't support Annabelle in any way. They told him they wouldn't buy her a damn thing, he would have to do it all himself. Being only 15 at the time, he couldn't make enough money to buy her a whole nursery. Instead, he bought a crib that he kept in his room, a changing blanket, diapers, a couple toys, and bottles. That's all he could afford.

Harry wasn't phased by what his parents said, he kept Annabelle, no matter how hard it got to pay for her. Being a single parent, he tries to love Annabelle as much as 2 parents would and does his best to make sure she can have the best that he is able to give her.

After tucking her in bed, he kisses her forehead, chuckling to himself at how heavy a sleeper she is. Harry looks at his adorable sleeping daughter once more before exiting the room and shutting the door quietly so he can find Eleanor.

It proved to be very easy to find the brunette beauty. She was just in her living room flipping lazily through channels. Not sure what to watch.

Harry comes up behind her on the couch and says, "Do you have anything to drink?"

"Depends on what you want." She states, turning around. "I have water, soda, and coffee."

"I mean alcohol, Eleanor." Harry states, not in the mood for water, soda, or coffee.

"You're 18. It's illegal to drink in the states, Harry." She teases.

"If I'm going to have sex with a woman, I need some alcohol in my system." He says and Eleanor's jaw drops.

"I'm very offended by that." She says, tossing her hair over her shoulder in an obnoxious way.

"Do you have any or not?" Harry questions, becoming impatient.

Eleanor just glares at him before going to the kitchen and gesturing for him to follow her. Harry does and she leads him over to her alcohol stash, pouring him a glass of rum. She hands it to him and pours herself some too.

It takes a lot for Harry to become semi drunk but it takes very little to make Eleanor fully drunk. That's why she gets down on her knees and sloppily undoes Harry's pants, giving him the drunkest blowjob ever. With Harry only semi drunk, he can laugh at how drunk she is but still enjoy the feel of her mouth nonetheless.

When she's done, Harry leads her into her own bedroom, Eleanor seeming to have forgotten where it was.

After removing all of their clothes and being engaged in a drunk makeout session, Harry slides on a condom he found in Eleanor's room and starts to thrust in Eleanor, hard and very fast. He has quite a bit of control, having had a little alcohol, and he's not all over the place like the long haired brunette.

Many times, Harry has to tell her to shut up so she won't wake up Annabelle who's sleeping a couple of doors down. Belle might be a heavy sleeper but by the way Eleanor is moaning, she could wake up the entire city.

On that night, Harry and Eleanor went from acquaintances to friends to friends with benefits in just a matter of hours. That has to be a new record.


End file.
